Chapter 2 - The Letter He Was Never Supposed to Read
Ethan had spent his life around emergencies.
He knew how to respond when money disappeared.
He knew what to do when a deal collapsed.
He knew how to handle threats, betrayals, investigations, hostile negotiations, and men who mistook his silence for weakness.
But he had no idea what to do with Vivien unconscious in his arms.
“Call an ambulance.”
His voice sounded unfamiliar.
Maria was already reaching for her phone.
Marco appeared from the kitchen.
“What happened?”
“She collapsed.”
Marco's face drained.
Ethan lowered Vivien carefully onto the sofa.
“Vivien.”
No response.
He touched her cheek.
Cold.
Too cold.
“Vivien, open your eyes.”
Her lashes moved.
Nothing more.
Ethan looked at Marco.
“How long has she been sick?”
Marco frowned.
“I don't know.”
“You said she hasn't been well.”
“She gets dizzy sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
“Mr. Romano—”
“How many times?”
Marco's voice hardened.
“I don't keep a medical chart on her.”
The answer should have annoyed Ethan.
Instead, shame hit him.
Marco had noticed.
Maria had noticed.
The staff had noticed.
Ethan had not.
The ambulance arrived in eleven minutes.
It felt like an hour.
When the paramedics lifted Vivien onto a stretcher, Ethan followed.
One of them blocked him.
“Family?”
Ethan stopped.
The question hit harder than expected.
“No.”
“Spouse?”
“No.”
“Then we'll need—”
“I’m going with her.”
The paramedic looked at him.
“Sir—”
“I'm going with her.”
Something in Ethan's expression ended the discussion.
The ambulance doors closed.
For the first time in fourteen months, the Romano estate continued functioning without Vivien inside it.
It felt wrong immediately.
At the hospital, Ethan stood beside the reception desk while nurses asked questions he could not answer.
Medication?
“I don't know.”
Allergies?
“I don't know.”
Emergency contact?
He froze.
“I don't know.”
Medical history?
Silence.
Each answer became an accusation.
He knew how Vivien arranged flowers in the dining room.
He knew she hated cinnamon in coffee.
He knew she preferred old movies to new ones because, once, six months ago, he had found her watching Casablanca alone in the staff lounge at midnight.
But he did not know who should be called if she collapsed.
He did not know whether she had parents.
Siblings.
Anyone.
The nurse studied him.
“What is your relationship to Ms. Ashcroft?”
Ethan looked through the glass doors toward the treatment area.
“She works for me.”
The words felt suddenly ugly.
Only that?
Works for me?
He opened his mouth.
Nothing else came.
A doctor eventually appeared.
“Mr. Romano?”
Ethan stood.
“Dr. Harris.”
“How is she?”
“She’s stable.”
Ethan exhaled.
Only then did he realize he had been holding his breath.
“What happened?”
“We're still running tests. She has an abnormal heart rhythm, and she appears severely exhausted and dehydrated. Her blood sugar was low as well.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“It can be.”
Ethan's eyes sharpened.
“Can be?”
“We need to determine what kind of arrhythmia we're dealing with. For now she's conscious.”
“I want to see her.”
The doctor hesitated.
“She asked for a few minutes.”
Ethan blinked.
“She doesn't want me there?”
“I didn't say that.”
“You said she asked for time.”
“Yes.”
Ethan looked away.
For reasons he could not explain, that hurt.
He had ignored her all day.
Humiliated her in front of six people.
Told everyone to let her cry.
And now he was surprised she did not immediately want him beside her hospital bed.
The irony was brutal.
He sat in the waiting room.
Minutes passed.
Then an hour.
His phone rang nine times.
He answered none of the calls.
His assistant finally texted.
MARONEI IS WAITING.
Ethan stared at the message.
Then typed:
LET HIM.
He placed the phone face down.
Across the room, an elderly man slept with his head on his wife's shoulder.
A teenage boy held his mother's hand.
Two sisters whispered near a vending machine.
Everyone seemed to belong to someone.
Ethan realized, with sudden discomfort, that he did not know who Vivien belonged to.
At six that evening, Maria arrived carrying Vivien's handbag.
“She'll need this.”
Ethan stood.
“Thank you.”
Maria did not leave.
“Is she okay?”
“They're running tests.”
Maria nodded.
Her eyes were red.
Ethan noticed.
He had seen her cry earlier that day.
Vivien had sat with her for forty minutes.
He suddenly remembered the half sandwich on the kitchen counter.
Untouched.
“Did she eat today?”
Maria looked confused.
“At lunch?”
“Yes.”
“I don't think so.”
Ethan closed his eyes briefly.
Maria hesitated.
“Mr. Romano?”
“What?”
“She does that a lot.”
His eyes opened.
“What?”
“Forgets to eat.”
“Why?”
Maria gave him a look that was not disrespectful.
It was worse.
It was honest.
“Because she's taking care of everyone.”
Ethan had no answer.
Maria handed him the handbag.
“She has a phone charger in there.”
He nodded.
She turned to leave.
“Maria.”
She stopped.
“Does Vivien have family?”
Maria's face changed.
“She doesn't talk about them.”
“No one?”
“Her father died when she was nineteen.”
“And her mother?”
Maria looked uncomfortable.
“I think she died before that.”
“Siblings?”
“I don't know.”
Ethan swallowed.
“So there’s nobody?”
Maria looked toward the treatment rooms.
“She has us.”
Then she added quietly:
“At least, I thought she did.”
She left.
Ethan sat again.
The words stayed.
At least, I thought she did.
An hour later, the doctor returned.
“You can see her.”
Vivien looked small in the hospital bed.
Too small.
The warm woman who filled the Romano estate with movement and calm now lay beneath a white blanket with wires attached to her chest and an IV line in her hand.
Her blonde hair was loose around her shoulders.
Her face was pale.
Ethan stepped inside.
Vivien looked toward him.
For several seconds neither spoke.
He closed the door.
“I brought your bag.”
“Thank you.”
He set it on the chair.
Another silence.
“How do you feel?”
“Tired.”
He almost smiled at the absurdity of the answer.
Instead, he pulled the second chair closer.
“I read the letter.”
Her eyes changed.
“You what?”
“It was on the table.”
“You weren't supposed to.”
“I know.”
She looked toward the window.
“I’m sorry.”
Ethan stared at her.
“You're apologizing?”
“For leaving it there.”
“Vivien.”
She closed her eyes.
He lowered his voice.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Her eyes opened again.
For a moment, she simply looked at him.
Then she said:
“I did.”
The words silenced the room.
“I tried Monday.”
Ethan remembered.
She had stopped him outside the library.
“I tried Tuesday.”
He remembered.
He had been on the phone.
“Wednesday.”
A meeting.
“Thursday.”
He had told her to send an email.
“And today.”
Ethan looked down.
The hospital monitor beeped softly between them.
“I didn't know it was this.”
“It shouldn't have mattered what it was.”
His eyes returned to hers.
Vivien's voice did not rise.
That made every word worse.
“I asked you for five minutes.”
He said nothing.
“I wasn't asking you to fix anything.”
Her eyes filled slowly.
“I just wanted someone to know.”
Ethan felt something twist in his chest.
“Why me?”
Vivien looked almost surprised.
Then she smiled.
Not happily.
Sadly.
“That's a very good question.”
He flinched.
She turned her face away.
“I'm tired, Ethan.”
“I know.”
“No.”
She looked back.
“I don't mean tonight.”
Silence.
“I mean I'm tired.”
The meaning settled between them.
“You should rest.”
“I am going to.”
Something about the way she said it made him uneasy.
“For how long?”
Vivien looked at her hands.
“I don't know.”
Ethan's jaw tightened.
“What are you saying?”
She inhaled slowly.
“I think I need to leave the estate.”
His entire body went still.
“What?”
“I need time.”
“You can take time.”
“That's not what I mean.”
“Then explain it.”
She looked at him.
“For fourteen months, I have organized my entire life around what everyone else needs.”
“You don't have to—”
“I do.”
“No one asked you to.”
The instant he said it, he regretted it.
Vivien laughed softly.
It was almost a sob.
“You're right.”
Ethan leaned forward.
“That's not what I meant.”
“But you're right.”
She wiped one tear from the corner of her eye.
“No one asked me to wake up at five-thirty.”
“Vivien—”
“No one asked me to make your coffee.”
“Stop.”
“No one asked me to remember that you don't sleep before negotiations or that Marco's hand shakes or that Maria cries in the laundry room when she thinks no one is looking.”
Her voice trembled.
“No one asked me to care.”
Ethan stared at her.
She continued more quietly.
“But I did.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“And somewhere along the way, I think I started believing that if I cared enough, maybe it would mean I mattered too.”
Ethan's face changed.
“You matter.”
Vivien looked at him.
“When?”
The question was devastating.
He had no answer.
She smiled through tears.
“That’s what I thought.”
A knock interrupted them.
Dr. Harris entered carrying a folder.
“Ms. Ashcroft, we have some preliminary results.”
Vivien straightened slightly.
Ethan stood.
The doctor looked between them.
“Would you like Mr. Romano to stay?”
Vivien hesitated.
That hesitation lasted perhaps two seconds.
To Ethan, it felt much longer.
Finally:
“Yes.”
Dr. Harris pulled the chair closer.
“The rhythm we're seeing is concerning, but treatable.”
Ethan watched Vivien.
“What does that mean?”
“We've identified episodes of ventricular arrhythmia.”
Vivien's fingers tightened around the blanket.
The doctor continued.
“We need additional imaging, but given your symptoms and the frequency of the episodes, I want to keep you here overnight.”
“How dangerous?” Ethan asked.
Dr. Harris looked at him.
“If untreated, potentially very dangerous.”
Vivien went pale.
Ethan moved instinctively closer.
The doctor softened.
“The good news is we found it.”
“Treatment?”
“Medication initially. Possibly a procedure depending on the results.”
Vivien nodded.
“Okay.”
Dr. Harris stood.
“I'll give you some time.”
When the door closed, Vivien stared at the blanket.
Ethan looked at her profile.
“You're not leaving.”
She gave a tired laugh.
“The hospital?”
“My life.”
The words escaped before he could stop them.
Vivien turned.
Ethan froze.
For perhaps the first time in his life, he had spoken without strategy.
He sat down again.
“I mean…”
“What?”
He looked at her.
“I don't know.”
Vivien's eyes softened just slightly.
But before either could say more, her phone buzzed inside the bag.
Ethan reached for it.
A message appeared on the screen.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
Vivien saw it.
Her entire expression changed.
Fear.
Not sadness.
Not exhaustion.
Fear.
Ethan noticed immediately.
“Who is that?”
“Give me the phone.”
Another message appeared.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT ROMANO WHEN I WARNED YOU.
Ethan's eyes hardened.
Vivien reached for the device.
“Ethan.”
But he had already read the next line.
HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT YOU DID FOR HIM.
AND IF YOU TELL HIM, YOU'LL REGRET IT.
Ethan looked at Vivien.
The hospital room suddenly felt cold.
“What does that mean?”
Vivien did not answer.
“Vivien.”
Her hands began to tremble.
“Who is sending you this?”
She looked at him with tears rising again.
Then she whispered the one answer Ethan had not expected.
“Someone from your past.”
May you like
And for the first time, Ethan realized Vivien's illness might not be the only secret she had been trying to tell him.
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